


the most important words

by The_Eclectic_Bookworm



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Episode: s02e17 Passion, F/M, Fix-It, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 15:24:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15821670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Eclectic_Bookworm/pseuds/The_Eclectic_Bookworm
Summary: She heard footsteps on the stairs to Rupert’s bedroom (because, now that she was sitting up, she could very clearly see that it was Rupert’s bedroom) and then she saw him, holding a bottle of champagne, smile bright and sweet. The sight of him made her feel physically sick. She shrank back against the bed.“Jenny—” Rupert’s voice shook. “What’s happened?”





	the most important words

He caught her by the window. Moonlight illuminating his face, his fangs, his delighted smile—the way he held her was almost tender, and it disgusted her. Stories were running through her mind of what he’d done to so many before her, what he might now do to so many after, and the fear left her nearly speechless.

But just nearly.

“Make it quick,” she said, her voice half-plaintive. She didn’t want a death that dragged on.

Angelus’s smile widened and she realized that she had made a mistake. “Is that what you want?” he said. His hands tightened on her neck. “You know, I really was considering snapping your neck—” here he twisted it just enough to make a point, and she gasped, almost a sob, “—but given that you’re something of a thorn in my side, I think I’d rather show you no mercy.”

His hands tightened on her neck, and she couldn’t breathe. Her last thought was of that yellow floppy disk on her desk, on how Willow would find it eventually, Willow would have to find it, Rupert would know, this would end, this _had_ to end—

* * *

 

She woke up in a bed, her entire body aching like she’d been tossed around for the last hour or two. She could hear movement below her, and stayed completely still, eyes closed, shaking. Whatever was going on right now, she knew she wasn’t supposed to be alive, and if Angelus was anywhere in the vicinity, he wouldn’t hesitate to rectify his little error.

“Jenny?” came Rupert’s voice, soft and half-hopeful. “It’s me.”

Oh god oh god oh _god._ Ignoring all aches and pains, Jenny sat up in bed, tried to call out to him, and realized that she had lost her voice. Horrified, she touched her throat; her fingers came back stained with blood. What had Angelus _done?_

She heard footsteps on the stairs to Rupert’s bedroom (because, now that she was sitting up, she could very clearly see that it was Rupert’s bedroom) and then she saw him, holding a bottle of champagne, smile bright and sweet. The sight of him made her feel physically sick. She shrank back against the bed.

“Jenny—” Rupert’s voice shook. “What’s happened?”

Jenny was remembering, in flashes, Angel’s hands on her throat, his fingernails digging in and drawing blood and squeezing as she tried to scream, a delighted, self-satisfied look in his eyes. Even if she hadn’t lost her voice, she didn’t think she’d be able to find words for what she was feeling, but she _did_ know she was terrified to be touched so soon after something like this. She wanted to be alone. She wanted the surety that no one but her could touch her, and she was _terrified_ that Rupert would cross the room and reach out to her, so she pulled herself up from the bed, stumbling, and pushed past him.

Rupert caught her arm. Trying to twist free, she inadvertently hit him.

The silence after this action seemed to echo through the loft bedroom, which felt strangely and oppressively small. Rupert didn’t look hurt, or angry, just suddenly and desperately worried. He took two steps back. “Jenny,” he said again, quietly.

Jenny swallowed, compulsively. It hurt. She raised her hands to her throat, then finally looked at him.

“Is it that you don’t want me to touch you?”

Jenny nodded.

“All right,” said Rupert. There were tears in his eyes. “All right. We—” He exhaled. “We can work with that.” He took a few steps back, giving her space, then sat down on the bed. “Can you—stay with me for a little while?”

Where else was she supposed to go? Jenny nodded again, then crossed the room to sit down next to him, still keeping a good few inches of space between them. The distance felt like more than that, though, which comforted her in the worst of ways.

“Do you know what happened to you?”

Jenny nodded.

“Was it Angelus?”

Jenny nodded.

Rupert looked at her with this horrible sadness in his eyes. _Guilt,_ she realized, and somehow this made everything feel a thousand times worse. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I believe he went after you because of your connection to me. I don’t think—”

Jenny shook her head, frantic. She couldn’t have him thinking it was his fault.

“Jenny, it’s not—it’s not your fault,” said Rupert. He was crying. She had never, ever seen him cry before. “Please. Don’t feel as though you must take responsibility for this. You have been alone—I have _allowed_ you to be isolated for far too long. None of this has been your fault.”

Jenny heard herself sob, and felt the pain in her throat. Sound felt like a small victory, so she did her best to force out more. “I can fix it,” she whispered. Every word hurt. “I tried to fix it.”

Rupert was still crying. He didn’t seem to hear her.

Jenny moved closer to him, placing her hands on his chest. She felt him stiffen at her touch, and he looked up, all but holding his breath, as though he expected her to pull away at any second. “Look at me,” she said. “I love you.” If every word was going to hurt, she’d damn well make every word count.

“Don’t,” said Rupert. He seemed quite ready to start crying again. “Don’t you dare love me after this. You’re a bloody fool to keep—to keep _forgiving_ me, after everything I inflict upon you, after _Angelus_ goes after you because of me—”

“So goddamn narcissistic,” said Jenny, and managed a wobbly smile. “I found out how to give him his soul.”

Rupert stopped, then stared at her. “What?”

“Angelus,” said Jenny, and swallowed again. Her voice was fading. “He tried to kill me because—”

“—because you—know how to restore his soul?” Rupert finished, stunned.

Jenny nodded.

“But he didn’t kill you properly.”

Jenny was brought back to the memory of Angelus, and his hands around her neck. She shrunk inward with a sob.

“Jenny,” she heard Rupert say, his voice wobbling. “Jenny, can I—hold you?”

“No,” Jenny whispered.

“Then I’ll—”

“Please don’t go.”

She heard the _creak_ of bedsprings as Rupert first kicked off his shoes, then lay down on his side. Raising her hands, she looked at him; he was studying her with a helpless exhaustion. “I know you love me too,” she said. “I would have died knowing. It’s okay.”

“Don’t talk like that,” said Rupert.

“It’s okay.” Jenny lay down next to him, reaching tentatively out to touch his face. “I just—” She coughed, and blood spattered the bedsheets.

“Right,” said Rupert, and sat up, Watcher-mask on. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”

The thought of leaving a warm and well-lit place for another public building _terrified_ Jenny. “No,” she said, roughly wiping the blood from her mouth. “Rupert—he killed me. He can’t know—”

“Jenny, I _promise_ I will keep you safe,” said Rupert fiercely. “I will call Buffy, I will call the Council, I will bring anyone and everyone here to protect you if that’s what you need to leave this house, but the fact remains that you are seriously injured and you _need_ qualified medical attention.”

“I don’t want to die,” said Jenny, half-sobbing. She _hated_ that all her words had to be distilled to their most basic essentials; there was so much she wanted to _say_ to him right now. “Don’t let me.”

Rupert’s hands shook, as though he wanted to hold her but knew he couldn’t. She wished she was brave enough to let him touch her, but right now any touch would just feel like Angelus all over again. It felt as though Sunnydale was stripping bits and pieces of her confidence away, replacing Janna with some frightened, shaking Jenny Calendar she didn’t know.

“I can’t go,” said Jenny, but her head was spinning, and it felt like too much of an effort to pull herself up and face him.

“Please,” said Rupert. He seemed unable to stay Watcher-calm. “Beloved—”

“I can’t—I’m _scared,_ ” said Jenny, and immediately wanted to snatch the words back and hide them away. She felt vulnerable, a victim, and hated it. “I don’t _want—_ ”

Rupert nodded, shakily, then said, “All right. But if—if you’re going to stay here tonight, you have to let me take care of you.”

The thought of anyone touching her right now was still daunting, but if it meant that she wasn’t going to have to leave Rupert’s home until it was light outside, she was okay with it. “Do the ritual first,” she said. “He brought me here.”

“Yes,” said Rupert. The tension seemed to be dissipating now that they had come to an agreement. He pulled himself up and off the bed.

“Wait—”

Rupert stopped.

“Come here,” said Jenny.

“I thought you didn’t want—”

“Anyone to touch me,” said Jenny. “Can I—” she reached out, not sure how to communicate this: _if I’m in control, it’s okay, I think._

Rupert, bless him, seemed to get the message, and lay back down next to her. “Yes,” he said, staying completely still, as though expecting her to shy away at any sign of movement.

Jenny reached up with a shaking hand, touching his face, and realized for the first time that this was the closest they’d been since Buffy had thrown her up against a desk. “I love you,” she said, her voice small. “Don’t die without knowing that.”

“I love you too,” said Rupert, and she’d _known,_ but hearing it made her smile a little. He smiled too, tired and worn, and added, “I cannot lose you, Jenny. Do you understand that? I _cannot—_ when I saw you l-lying there, I—”

“Shh.”

“—kept thinking, about, about things I should have told you, things I want—”

“Rupert.”

“—to tell you, there’s just, there’s too much for me to—”

Jenny moved forward and rested her forehead against his. Some tight knot in her chest relaxed at the closeness, at knowing that he wouldn’t reach out until he was sure she was ready. “I love you,” she said again. She liked saying it, if only because the words had been shut inside her for so long; she couldn’t think of anyone she’d said them to before. “I love you. I love you.” It felt freeing, and beautiful, to know that she was here, that she could say these words to him every day.

Rupert’s smile was shaking, tears in his eyes. “I am so sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay,” said Jenny, her words dipping to a murmur, her eyes dropping to his mouth. She didn’t feel entirely ready for any kissing, though, and instead chose to carefully wind her arms around his neck, tucking her head into his shoulder. “I’m okay,” she mumbled. “I’m going to be okay.” Her throat still ached, but the words rang true.

“I love you,” Rupert whispered, stroking her hair.

Downstairs, there was a hammering on the door. “GILES!” Buffy shouted.

Jenny froze. Rupert hesitated, then murmured, “Will you be all right up here?”

“I don’t—”

Correctly interpreting Jenny’s hesitance, Rupert very carefully picked her up, holding her gently against him as he descended the stairs. Placing her down on the couch, he added, “After, um, whatever this is, I’ll do the ritual and then patch you up a bit,” and then opened the door for Buffy.

“Giles—” Buffy was in tears. Jenny couldn’t see her, but she could hear it. “Giles, Angelus said he killed Ms. Calendar, and, and I went down to the school to go find her but the computer lab is trashed, he said he left her _here—_ ”

“Buffy, Jenny’s all right,” said Rupert, sounding relieved and happy just to say the words. “She’s with me. Angelus did attempt to kill her, but he did not succeed.”

“What?” Buffy’s voice sounded so much smaller and younger than Jenny had expected.

“It appears our Ms. Calendar is made of stronger stuff than Angelus expected,” Rupert quipped gently, which made Jenny smile. “She’s a bit bruised, but she’ll be fine.” He made it sound better, less dangerous, than it really had been; it was clear that he was trying to comfort Buffy.

Jenny heard footsteps, then saw Buffy, who stopped immediately in front of the couch. “Oh,” she said in a small voice, and let out a weak, exhausted laugh. “Oh, okay.” She scrubbed at her eyes, looking less like a Slayer and more like a seventeen-year-old. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Kinda,” said Jenny.

Buffy’s eyes flickered to Jenny’s throat. “He tried to strangle you?”

“Yes,” said Jenny.

Buffy sniffled, then nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. But you’re alive.”

“Hope so,” said Jenny a little distantly.

Buffy looked at her, lip trembling, then said, “You know, I-I felt kinda like that after the Master? Like—I’d died down there, all by myself. I was mad at you, but I never wanted—no one should feel like that.”

“I love you,” said Jenny. It felt best to distill things to their essence when everything hurt so much. She did love Buffy, just like she loved all those kids. She’d missed them.

Buffy sniffled again, then knelt down next to the couch, taking Jenny’s hand. “Everyone who loves me just gets hurt,” she said. “I kinda thought, maybe I should stop loving people, you know? But I guess that doesn’t stop them from loving _me._ I guess that’s not my choice to make.”

“Smart kid,” said Jenny, and tried to smile. It didn’t feel quite as hollow as it had a few days back.

“I’d like to love you too, is what I’m saying,” said Buffy. “If that’s okay.”

“It is,” said Jenny. She could hear Rupert finishing up the ritual to keep out Angel. “You staying?”

“No, um, I should be getting home,” said Buffy, “my mom’ll be worried, and Willow doesn’t even know that Angelus told me you were dead.” She hesitated. “Are you just, like, not gonna go to a hospital?”

“I’m good here,” said Jenny.

“Yes, we had this conversation earlier,” said Rupert, who had somehow switched seamlessly into dry, sardonic Watcher-mode. “Apparently, even almost dying is not enough to stop Jenny from arguing. Absolute force of nature.”

“Thanks,” said Jenny, and sat up to smirk at Rupert. This surprised him so much that his easy detachment vanished completely, replaced with a soft, delighted smile. “Ow,” she added, and fell back into the couch.

“You see this?” said Rupert. There was relief in his voice. “Not ten minutes before she’s giving me hell.”

“Just like always,” said Buffy. “Listen, uh, I need to go home, get some sleep, maybe cry a little ‘cause this has been a _totally_ stressful night. Do you guys think you’ll be up for a strategy session tomorrow?”

The use of the plural didn’t escape Jenny. She smiled. “Yeah,” she said.

“Absolutely  _not,_ ” said Rupert, “she needs to visit the _hospital_ tomorrow _._ Bring everyone else here tomorrow evening if you can, but Jenny will _not_ be overexerting herself just to make a point—”

“Says you,” said Jenny. Buffy giggled.

* * *

Rupert patched Jenny up in an awkwardly intimate fashion. As it turned out, the consistent aches were coming from the fact that Angel had carried her most of the way to the apartment, and he hadn’t been all too careful or gentle about it; he’d left a few bruises where he’d gripped her waist and torso too hard.

“I’ll kill him,” said Rupert, his voice level in that terrifying way it had been around Ethan. His hands, however, shook as they traced a particularly large bruise on Jenny’s stomach.

“Hey,” said Jenny. “No, you won’t.”

Rupert looked up at her.

“I need you here,” said Jenny, and straightened his glasses.

Rupert smiled a bit exhaustedly, reached up towards her face, and stopped himself. “Um,” he said awkwardly. “Y-you really do need to go to the hospital tomorrow. When it’s light out, of course—”

“It’s okay,” said Jenny, and took his hand in hers, placing it right above her neck. “I’m feeling better.”

“Yes?”

“Mm hmm,” said Jenny.

Rupert pulled himself up, then cupped Jenny’s face in his hands and kissed her very softly. Her heart sped up for a reason that wasn’t fear at all. “My darling,” he said. “My heart.”

She thought she’d be okay, in the end, hospital visits and vengeful vampires be damned. He would be here with her.


End file.
